My Guiding Light
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: I make a point of not taking fic requests, but when someone messaged me with this Rory/Marty Nudist premise back in July, it got stuck in my brain. Adding a few flairs of my own but honoring the title as it was originally presented, this takes place after A Year in the Life. Rory is pregnant with her baby. What will happen when an old friend and Yale classmate re-enters her life?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Rory Gilmore surveyed the dive bar in lower Manhattan. She had infiltrated past the bouncer with a well-placed hair flip (even if, she told herself, no subterfuge was necessary; she was a 32-year-old woman who was legally allowed to have a drink) and was now seeking out a possible subject to interview. The topic profiled would eventually culminate in a piece about lines for _GQ_ magazine. Earlier in the day, she had tried to interview someone waiting in line in front of a video game store; embarrassingly, she had fallen asleep. Rory hoped that no one besides her mother had noticed, and had needed to delete the audio recording on her phone with resignation. It wouldn't look good to her boss to hand in an audio file half-full of nothing but the sounds of the city and her snoring.

As she stepped closer into the musty, smoke-filled bar, Rory could see that a party was going on. From the lightsabers being waved around and Yoda ears bobbing above the mosh pit of heads, it was clearly Star Wars-themed. But it was the guy over at the bar, tending the drinks and wiping down the counter, who caught her eye.

He was dressed from head to toe in a Wookie costume, complete with a mask that covered his whole face. Intrigued by the amusing possibilities of getting him to talk through a mask that had no mouth hole, Rory sauntered over. "Hey, Chewbacca, what's a gal gotta do to get a drink around here?"

The Wookie paused, but for only a fraction, before speaking. She could hear him clearly enough, through the mask. "That depends. What are you offering?"

Rory grinned. "A chance to be quoted in the next addition of _GQ_. I'm writing a piece about lines."

If she could have seen his face, the bartender was no doubt cracking an eyebrow. "Lines? As in, lines of cocaine?"

"No."

"Lines in a play?"

"No. Lines. As in... lines you wait in."

The Wookie bartender threw down his rag and leaned over to her, arms folded nearly on the spotless counter. "OK. I'll bite. What do you want to know?"

"How long do you, on average, have to wait to purchase something in retail?"

"Well, I stood for the better part of a day outside the 92nd Street Apple Store to purchase the new iPhone. I had saved tips for months to get it..."

To Rory's surprise, the bartender was very knowledgeable, and gave her his own insights and opinions on lines for all walks of life. Rory filled up her phone with more than an hour's worth of content. Originally, she had wanted to profile more people, but maybe an in-depth profile of this bartender and his opinions on lines would do. It could lead to another piece, as well, if he boss liked it enough. Like another Naomi Shropshire. She and her new friend closed the place down, talking until long after the last Stormtrooper had tipped his waitress and gone on his merry way. The Wookie gestured upstairs, as Rory had a few more questions for him. Like, what was his name?

"I live in the apartments above the bar. We can talk there more if you want." A little buzzed from the two martinis she had ordered during their engrossing conversation, Rory found herself nodding her head. The Wookie punched a button on the elevator, and stood aside to let her pass. As Rory and the Wookie rode upstairs, they continued to talk.

"But you know what's the hardest line of all to wait in?" the Wookie suddenly postulated.

Rory unpaused her Voice Memo app. "No, what?"

Despite his covering, Rory couldn't help but sense that the gaze he now sent her was smoldering. "The line you wait in behind every guy and his brother, just to have a shot with the prettiest girl you've ever seen."

Rory cocked her head, intrigued. Heartache. "Awww, I'm sorry. I bet you're not bad-looking. What's under the mask?"

Again, the strangest feeling that he was burning a hole straight through her irises. "Why don't you pull it yourself, and find out?"

Rory felt heat bloom on her neck as she found herself oddly blushing. Slowly, holding his eyes, she began to pull up the mask.

It was rubber, fitted fairly tight to his face, but not tight enough that he couldn't breathe or speak through it. The brown material freed his chin, then his lips. She was just about to tug it past his nose when -

The elevator door dinged, opening onto an apartment hallway. The Wookie shied away a little bit, gesturing awkwardly. Rory shrank back for a moment, fearing she had done something wrong.

"My floor," the Wookie grunted. It was odd, and yet strangely enthralling, to watch his liberated mouth move as he talked.

"Well, thank you for talking with me. I... I can send you a copy when it's published," Rory offered meekly, suddenly feeling quite shy.

"Nah, that's all right, I'll subscribe." The Wookie smiled. He had a nice smile. "Besides... you know who I am."

Rory's doe eyes blinked. "I do?"

"Your friendly Wookie bartender!" They laughed, and Rory felt bold enough to hug him.

"Thanks again. Good night." He held open the doors as they closed, started to step into the hall, then turned back with another smile. "Good night."

Rory must have been drunker than she thought, for she felt freer in bestowing another hug. She drew away, smiling way too much...

And then, quite suddenly, her hand was cupping the nape of his neck, and his arms were about her, and his tongue had licked its way into her mouth. With a purr, Rory tilted her head, allowing the kiss to deepen. Rory and the Wookie made out furiously, the elevator doors pinging their signal to shut for the third time, the tone of it sounding almost annoyed. Someone's hand kept the doors at bay, as Rory was spun around and slammed into one side of the archway. "Uhhh... Huhhh... Mmmm..." Rory was panting, moaning, thoroughly enjoying the way this man kissed her. She hadn't been kissed in so long, so long...

An alarm sounded, forcing the couple to break apart, gasping. Rory's breasts heaved with desire and lust. "Bedroom," she demanded. She had never had sex without love involved, but after being alone and dating a guy only nominally for the better part of a year, Rory was willing to try and see if raw intimacy without romantic affection was possible.

Thankfully, the apartment was directly across the hall from the elevator. Rory and the Wookie stumbled in, still furiously kissing. Rory's foot kicked the door closed. The room was dark, with really dim lighting. Rory felt the backs of her knees slam into a mattress and she tumbled backwards onto it, taking her subject with her. The hem of her navy skirts rolled back along her creamy thighs. Down came her damp, lace panties and soon she felt his hot mouth feasting on the petals of her sex. She moaned loudly, each and every flick of his tongue penetrating deeper and causing her muscles to spasm. The Wookie soon emerged from her bushy cunt - amazingly with the mask still covering his face from the lips up - and she let out a little, plaintive whine that he hadn't made her cum with his mouth. He mounted her quickly, and she spread her knees eagerly. She pulled him between her thighs with a happy moan, parting her lips wide and kissing him hungrily. Her fingers worked nimbly to free his trousers - maple corduroys, it turned out, to go with the costume's top half - and threw them down, boxers and all. Everything was so shrouded in shadow that Rory couldn't even see how big he was, but when her fingers brushed his length and she clasped it in her fist, she could tell enough about his girth to be impressed.

Rory and the Wookie paused in their furious kissing for a moment. Rory's eyes clouded over from the drink and simmering lust. "I'm going to regret this..." she murmured, half to herself, before throwing her arms about him and kissing him thoroughly. For a moment, she considered clawing at the rubber to get the mask the rest of the way off, but the passing notion quickly died when the Wookie came down on her.

Rory's walls clenched tightly around him, and her eyes went as big as saucers. He really was big! She rocked and bucked her pelvis against him as he began to drive into her, thrusting in and out, in and out... He was slow, almost cautious at first, which Rory found almost sweet... His mouth was hot around hers, his tongue dancing between her parted lips. Beneath them, the bed creaked and swayed dangerously along a weak bed frame.

"You... you can go faster if you'd like," Rory panted as she felt his lips tickle her face then work its way down, his mouth warm as it took her one breast in, swallowing whole and slobbering it a little, but she didn't mind. With her permission, the Wookie began to pick up the pace and Rory let her head fall back with a blissful sigh.

"Oh, fuck... Fuck..." Rory groaned. "Mmmmhmmmmm... Huhhhh... Uhhhhhhh... Ohhhhhhhh..."

"Oh my god... oh my god..." the Wookie chanted in her ear. "Harder, faster..." She keened into him more assuredly. Her knees began to tremble, her legs violently twitch. The Wookie threw Rory's opened legs over his shoulders and somehow managed to still pound into her with wild abandon. Another forceful slam, two, and then...

"Motherfuck!" The Wookie collapsed on top of her, and came deep inside her. Rory arched her back and screamed out her release, her juices pulsing and milking him. A few more sweaty slaps and smacks of their bodies and then both lay still, until their respective heart rates returned to normal.

The Wookie actually fell asleep on top of her, and Rory had to push him off of her, so that he rolled over until his form perched on the edge of the bed. Feeling dizzy, lightheaded and with clarity only just beginning to return, accompanied by a sting of regret, she sat up and wiped her cunt free of juices. Feeling disgusted with herself, Rory scrambled off the bed and redressed, moving for the door. She paused on the landing for just a moment, taking in her sleeping one-night stand. Curiosity tempted her, for the slightest of instants, to remove the mask and see who lay beneath, but revulsion over her impulsive act won out, forcing her to flee.

It was only once she made it out to the street that Rory realized with further horror that they had forgotten to use a condom. And even more regrettable...

She hadn't even known his name.

* * *

Lorelai was waiting for her daughter clear across town in their hotel room when Rory finally returned in the wee hours of the morning. Right away, a single take in of her daughter's face and her maternal instincts kicked in. "Whoa... you look weird. What's wrong?"

Rory huffed, ripping off the truth like a bandaid. "I slept with a Wookie."

Lorelai cocked an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"I slept with a Wookie."

Lorelai's eyes seemed to chase themselves around and around as she studied her child. "You... slept with a...?"

"Wookie. I slept with a Wookie; don't make me keep saying it!"

"I'm sorry, I'm just not getting this here."

Rory stalked for the shower. "I'm just gonna shower, get the Wookie smell off me..."

"Wait, wait, seriously..." Lorelai kept her face in a solemn deadpan, beckoning her daughter back to the hotel bed. "Did he leave the outfit on?"

Rory sighed. "That's a conversation for another day..." and turned for the bathroom.

"Can that day be tomorrow? Because you don't wanna leave me and my imagination alone with that for too long!"

"He left the mask on, and it was dark! I didn't see his face! Happy?" Rory snapped.

"No. My gossip heart is crying out for more," Lorelai admitted bluntly, as Rory slammed the door in her face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Streaks of orange were dancing along the lacquered sideboards of The King's Head Inn. Rory Gilmore was staring out the window at the sunrise, her expression in some halfway land between stoicism and sadness. A simple bathrobe was clothed around herself, her brown hair straight and flowing past her shoulders. Behind her in the four poster bed, a rustling of the sheets made her turn her head. A blonde Adonis was rising from slumber, his voice rumbling and slurred from sleep.

"Hey." Logan Huntzberger propped himself up on his elbows. "How long have you been sitting there?"

Rory's expression almost never wavered, only dipping a little bit as her gaze returned to the window. "Just watching the sun come up."

"Come back to bed."

"How long before you have to get back?"

A moment of silence, followed by: "Ah, I've got time."

"How long?" she pressed.

"Long enough."

She finally turned back to look at him then, fixing him with a hard stare. A creamy thigh was peeking out from under her robe, signaling her nakedness and the lovemaking they had indulged themselves in all night and into the wee hours of the morning. Perhaps that is what made Logan finally cave as he admitted, "I have a flight out at noon." He tilted his head almost paternalistically as he preemptively admonished, "Don't do the math."

"Someone needs to," she reminded him, almost helplessly.

He just cracked a grin and threw back the coverlet, climbing out in nothing but his boxers. Hanes, Rory noted the make appreciatively. "OK, so... there's this great diner down the road... checked it out, it's not your beloved _Luke's_, but it's supposed to have an amazing breakfast."

"It's really pretty here." Rory was no longer paying attention, her silent vigil of a stare returning to the view. Logan sauntered over.

"I wanted it to be special."

"It was. It was... a perfect night."

Logan stopped short. "Hey, Ace?" She met his eyes. "Something going on in that head of yours?"

She went to internal war with herself, then finally with a sad smile, rose from the love seat and held out the key. "Here."

"No, no, I told you," Logan balked. "It's yours. Use it to write."

She shrugged. "I don't need it," she told him gently, holding out the key again. "I know where I'm going to write."

"OK," Logan finally accepted the key, though still hesitantly.

"Breakfast sounds good," Rory agreed, though her voice was small.

"Hey -"

"Come on," she caressed his arm, a hitch in her voice. "We have to get you home."

* * *

"Who flash mobs to Steely Dan?" Rory gawked.

"Luke," Lorelai giggled almost wistfully.

"Luke," her daughter echoed.

They were sitting in the gazebo, watching the sun as it began its late afternoon descent. Lorelai was nursing a tumbler of wine, her expression blissful. Rory was a little folded into herself, but smiling softly, recalling her mother's wedding. This time, she got to actually be present for it. And she had a new stepfather.

Of course, it was the secret wedding. The actual wedding would not be for another few days, but the planning was pretty relaxed in the privacy of the secretly-blended Gilmore-Danes household.

"It's fine. I texted Patty and she said she's gonna switch it to Karma Chameleon."

"Without telling him?" Rory finished the thought.

"Yeah..."

"Oooh, man, that's gonna be good. Aren't you curious what a Steely Dan flash mob would look like?"

"No."

"Me either," Rory agreed. A brief lapse into silence, and then: "Well, how does it feel?"

"It feels... right," Lorelai finally concluded, fishing in the air before coming upon the perfect description. She and Luke had actually married the night before their ceremony, neither of them wanting to wait any longer.

"Yeah?"

"It's such a long time getting here. Sometimes, it's just a journey, you know?"

"I guess so." Another silence.

"I think I'm going to be very good at this..." Lorelai finally mused.

"At being married?" Rory wondered, as her mother reached to pour herself another glass of Chardonnay.

"No, at finishing off this bottle," Lorelai deadpanned.

"Oh, no doubt in my mind," Rory laughed.

"Hey, so now that I'm a married lady, maybe you should be one too! You are _of age_, and we can do married lady things together!" Lorelai fantasized even as Rory gawked in mock offense.

"What are married lady things?"

"I don't know," Lorelai bantered back, as she had only just become one herself for... technically the second time in her life? The first had been so brief though, so crazy and impulsive. "Like, uh... dying our hair blue, or... buying pork chops. Bowling...?"

"I don't know... I thought I'd be the special daughter who stays home forever and looks after Mama," Rory floated.

"No, I have Kirk for that," Lorelai cracked. "Let's see... who can we marry you off to...? Oh, I know! Did that nice PeeWee Herman ever find himself a lady?"

"I'm thinking _No_ is a pretty safe bet," Rory hid a smile.

"You wanted to marry him when you were little, remember?"

"I also wanted to marry Edward Scissorhands and Jerry Orbach from _Law & Order_."

"Your tastes ran the gamut," Lorelai conceded.

A phone suddenly beeped, and Rory picked it up. "Rory, due to our conflicting schedules, I think we should break up. Take care. Paul." She dropped the phone into her lap, finally free of him but still mad at herself. "I can't _believe_ how I treated him. I suck!"

"No, you don't. It didn't... fit," Lorelai assured her. "It needs to fit, believe me. He'll find someone amazing one day."

"Yeah."

"And so will you." Lorelai stroked Rory's leg lovingly. No response. Rory seemed to be on the verge of crying; indeed, she was blinking back tears. Lorelai shook her leg. "Hey. What's going on in there?" desperate to learn her daughter's thoughts.

"I wanna remember it all. Every detail." Rory finally expressed, looking out beyond the gazebo. Lorelai followed her gaze, smiling in understanding as they observed the quiet fall evening. The silence was finally broken by Rory's prodding:

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

Rory turned to her, her voice cracking on emotion. "I'm pregnant."

Lorelai could only meet her gaze, her mouth open in shock.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Rory stared at the name in Contacts on her phone. She was on the front porch of the Crap Shack, a quiet Stars Hollow winter evening in the middle of the night. The rest of the Gilmore-Danes household was quiet; April, Rory's stepsister, was home from graduate school abroad, sleeping on an air mattress at the foot of Rory's bed. Clear across the lawn, the lights in the next house over were dark, and Morey's loud snores indicated that there was no risk of one of the two biggest gossips in town overhearing.

_Fuck it_, Rory thought, clicking the green CALL button. She had been stalling for close to a month as it was; that made her seven, eight weeks along already. Her normally flat stomach had an ever-so-slight curve to it, one that she could still conceal with an ever-so-slightly loose fitting blouse, so that if anyone wondered, they might just think she had been eating too much. Stress-eating, that was a good excuse for now.

Only three people (about to be four) knew her secret. Lorelai had been deeply concerned upon learning the news, even a little distraught, though she hid it well. But disappointed? That rang through clear as day. After angrily blowing a gasket over the fresh bastard who had impregnated his stepdaughter and wanting to go for his shotgun, Luke had been more understanding. He vowed to give anything Rory needed, no questions asked (though he seemed tempted to ask for the name of the "little fucker" - his words - responsible just the same). When April had arrived just a few days ago, Rory very well knew she and her parents couldn't keep such a secret from family; she couldn't ask that of Luke. So Rory had sat April down and told her she was going to be an Aunt. April took it surprisingly well, with the flat attitude of a scientist. It was what Rory liked best about April: nothing threw her. She only hoped he had the same flat -

"Hello?"

She jolted out of her thoughts. "Logan... hi."

"What's up, Ace? Your step-daddy's coffee not doing enough to keep you up?"

_No, your child's doing that just fine,_ Rory thought. "I, just... we haven't talked in a while and..." she paused. "Can you talk?"

"Yeah, she's asleep," but she could still hear the rustle of sheets, the click of a lock as he moved into the next room.

"Good. I don't want this overheard," Rory said tightly.

"What? Are we playing dirty phone sex now?"

"I think we've covered the dirty already," Rory said quickly.

A slight pause on the other end as Logan tried to make sense of that. In that pause, Rory blurted it out before she lost her nerve. "I'm pregnant, Logan."

The silence held for so long, she was afraid he had hung up or the call had been lost. "Log-?"

"Get rid of it." The phrase was spat out, sounding almost strangled.

"What?" Rory gasped, frowning. "No! This is my child too, you know. And I'm the one carrying it!" Rory was liberal on almost every issue, and was especially adamant that a woman should have control over her own body. Have a choice. Her choice, however, would not be to have an abortion. In another time, from a different decision, she herself may have been at the other end of an abortion, but Lorelai would never have disposed of her child. "We..."

"It's not that. If Odette finds out -"

"She doesn't have to know!" Rory cut across him. "You live on the other side of the world!"

"But I won't be able to help you," Logan still sounded like he was trying to get air. "She's an heiress, Ace - pays close attention to her money. If I even just tried forwarding you cash... she'd find the paper trail and follow the money. Once she and I are married next month, our accounts merge. I wouldn't have any way to give you child support without her knowing."

The silence was oppressive, the air thick and heavy. "Do you understand what I mean?" he demanded.

Rory lifted the phone back to her ear. "Yes," she said brokenly.

"You've got to get rid of it, Ace. You've got to get rid of it!" There was a click as the line went dead. Rory stared at the ended call with despair and dread. She was on her own.

* * *

_That had been two months ago_, Rory thought almost dazedly, as she wandered aimlessly through town, caressing her baby bump. Her swelling stomach was already starting to show handsomely and the whole town knew by now. The biggest gossip Babette and Miss Patty could hold onto was the identity of the father. Rory wasn't about to give that information up. She didn't even tell her family, trying not to worry about how her mother was suspecting all she liked.

It was the lunch hour, and she was away from her desk at the _Stars Hollow Gazette_, window shopping when she noticed a crowd forming outside of Andrew's Bookstore. Andrew himself was out there now, carrying a sign. Smiling, Rory hurried over.

"Hi, Andrew, what are you doing?"

"Book signing today!" he beamed. "NYT bestselling author passing through. Why don't you come on in, Rory? Can't have you and the little one freeze." And he ushered her inside, out of the February cold, before turning back and placing the folded sign down on the sidewalk.

The bookstore was more jammed than Rory had ever seen it. Someone handed her a copy of the signed book, and she absently took it, not even bothering to look at the cover as she was jostled into line. The people were funneled up fairly quickly and soon Rory found herself at the head of the line. When she locked eyes with the author, she dropped her copy, revealing her ballooning stomach.

"Marty?!"

"Rory Gilmore?" His eyes roved over her. "Wow! You're expecting! Many happy returns! I bet your husband's over the moon!"

Flushing, Rory bent to snatch up her book and hand it to him for a signature. The $19.99 price tag would be well worth it to read the successful work of her old friend and Yale classmate. "Oh, no... I'm not... married," and she flashed her ring finger. "This ring finger is light as a feather."

Marty cocked an eyebrow, but didn't pass judgment or display any nosy curiosity. "Oh. Are you working here in town?"

"The local paper," she pointed down the street.

"Really?" an intrigued grin lit up Marty's face. "Well, how about this? I have a conference in Denver next week. A literary summit. Would you want to come along with me and cover it?"

Rory sent him a curious, amused grin. She turned the offer over in her mind. She had never been to Denver before. The story would spice up the _Gazette_, maybe even earn her a promotion to take full control of the publication. And, she figured as she looked down at her stomach, this might be her last chance to travel before the baby is born. So she smiled.

"I'd love to. Here's my number and you can text me the deets." They exchanged numbers and as Rory moved out of line with her signed copy in hand, she felt compelled to hug Marty warmly. "I'll see you next week! So good to run into you!"

Marty beamed. "It is wonderful to see you again."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 **

When Rory logged in to book her flight, she was surprised to discover that Marty had also given her access to his frequent flyer miles, so they could catch the same flight. His sweetness saved her quite a bit of money - money she would need once her child arrived. The following week, she met Marty at Bradley International, and they boarded the long flight to Denver, seated together and chatting the whole way.

The literary conference was held on the ground floor of a hotel in the heart of the city. Marty let Rory step forward first to book a room. But when the receptionist ran the availability numbers, she frowned.

"Oh, ma'am, I'm sorry, but we've been overbooked." Rory's face fell.

Marty leapt forward. "Have her bunk with me! I booked a double room anyhow and she's pregnant. Marty Kincaid. And put everything on my tab." The receptionist obeyed, Rory turning to protest. Marty held up a hand. "You're my guest. End of discussion."

"But... where will you sleep?"

"On the floor, of course," he blinked. "You take the bed." Rory beamed.

The first day of the conference was grueling in length, but engrossing in content. Marty and Rory decided to rest their feet afterwards by heading to the bar, Marty ordering a martini for himself and an ice water for Rory.

"So: who's the lucky guy? The father?" Rory cocked her head and blinked at Marty's question, from which he quickly tried to backpedal. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry..."

"No, no, it's all right." For some reason, her gut told her to make a quick decision and lie. "I don't know." If Marty had a reaction to this news, he didn't show it. Rory bit her lip, suddenly remembering how she had treated him at Yale, especially when he had once harbored feelings for her. "Do you think less of me?"

His answering smile was surprisingly gentle. "No," he murmured. "Everyone needs to get their ya-yas out somehow, some more than others." He tipped back the last of his drink, as the song wafting over the dance floor suddenly shifted, picking up tempo. "Do you want to dance?"

Flushed a little from the drink, she smiled awkwardly and tried to protest. "Oh no, I couldn't possibly..."

"Nonsense. One song. Then we'll get you off your feet for the baby. Come on." Heat blooming on her neck, she took his hand and let him guide her out onto the dance floor.

Despite not having had anything inebriating to drink, the atmosphere affected Rory just as much as if she was drunk. Soon, she found herself dancing quite close to Marty, bumping and grinding along with the music. Turning, she boldly rested her ass along Marty's hips, rubbing into him and trying to tell herself that the hardness of his length pressing into her was natural and not for her. She felt like a college student again, and not an expecting, grown woman as she let her inhibitions go:

_Cause girls like you hang round with guys like me till sundown, and that's all cool... I need girls like you..._

* * *

Red-faced and laughing, with aching feet, Rory and Marty exited the hotel bar and rode up the elevator to their hotel room. Marty led them to the door, turning the key in the lock. He tossed his duffel onto an easy chair, but as he moved to pull one layer of sheets and all the pillows from the left side of the bed, Rory stopped him. "We can share the bed," she whispered, her voice oddly small. "It's wide enough."

Marty tried not to blush. "OK." He pulled back the coverlet, giving Rory privacy to go into the bathroom and change. Once both were in their PJs, they climbed into bed together, their backs to each other at first, then eventually staring at the ceiling.

Marty dozed off first, but Rory stayed awake, propping herself up on one elbow and watching him sleep. She had a wonderful time tonight - the best she had ever had with a guy since Logan. And Marty had been nothing but sweet and gracious. Gracious, even adorably protective, over her condition.

Quite suddenly, she thought about her surreal visit to Chilton, all those months ago, with a bitterly jaded - and, as it turned out, mentally precarious - Paris in tow. She remembered meeting with Headmaster Charleston in his office. He had asked her if she was married, and she recalled his words upon hearing her bashful, giggling No: _Good. Be picky. _

Rory stole a shy glance over at Marty just then, innocently prone in the double bed beside her. Was the answer really that simple? The more she thought about it, the more she realized she was the fool she had of late felt herself to be. The faces of all her past suitors - Dean, Jess, Logan and even Tristan although he technically didn't count - chased themselves around and around her brain.

Rory knew she had a type - every woman did, and would tell you, if you asked them. Except Rory now realized that the type she had adhered to as a young woman was so... unappealing now. The type where every guy looked like they had just wandered off the set of The Bachelor while looking for the nearest restroom. Pretty people, but almost to a man possessing wits duller than Donald Trump's mentally retarded sons. Jess Mariano was the one exception.

Even as she thought it, though, she frowned. Could someone's sexual preferences - their type, as it were - change so suddenly and drastically, however? She had still been screwing around with Logan only a handful of months before, and was now carrying his baby - a culmination of a decade of on-again, off-again, friends-with-benefits fucking fiestas courtesy of "the guy she just couldn't quit", to somewhat paraphrase her mother's retort. Rory frowned further, suddenly hating herself. It may have been a cheap move, but it was also a hella sick burn on the part of Lorelai. Mostly because she was dead-on-the-nose. Rory had been caught fooling around with a spoken-for guy... again. And there was the proof, cocooned in her belly and now for all to see. Lorelai had been right all along - not only had Rory spectacularly unlearned her lesson from sleeping with Dean (if she had ever learned it to begin with) but now she was repeating her mother's mistakes - forever tying her blood and parental (mis)fortunes to a man who ran like a fly-risk fugitive at the first sign of trouble. And like Christopher before him, Logan had done just that. And even more unsettling... Lorelai had known. She'd known the whole damn time. Even if Rory had never told her about the affair, her mother had worked through the clues and astutely assessed the situation, predicting in her own smart-ass fashion that it could only go one way: down. Rory shuddered. If her mother was still this sharp in her instincts and wits at not quite 50, sinking verbal comebacks like they were three-pointers from Steph Curry, Rory could only imagine how she would be by the time her own child was grown. Lorelai would be another regular Emily Gilmore, with an aging Luke in place of Richard hopelessly trying to catch up with her, or at least reign her in.

Rory felt the judgment. She felt the judgment acutely. Lorelai hadn't exactly been thrilled when Rory had announced she was expecting; though clearly disappointed, as any father would be, Luke had been more understanding. There was a first. But as Rory gazed down at the man sleeping beside her, she knew that she had never felt any judgement from Marty about her situation. He really was so sweet... and she was so lonely, so filled with need.

It had to be her out-of-control hormones talking (maybe that was why her thoughts were all screwed up) that just then compelled Rory to start peppering soft kisses along Marty's face. Marty hummed in his sleep, and opened one bleary eye. He still appeared out of it, even as he was being woken up in the middle of the night by a beautiful woman to make love. Because Rory wanted - no, she needed - to have sex. To jump the bones of the first thing that moved. And if it couldn't be Logan, then anyone would do.

Rory felt Marty respond to her kisses and even kiss her back along her cheeks - clearly going for her lips, but Rory would teasingly dance away, keeping them out of reach. Feeling a little more liberated, she assertively shoved Marty (still half-asleep) back into the mattress and swung one leg wide as she moved to straddle him. Marty groaned and bucked into her. Smirking, Rory gallingly cupped him. Opening her knees, she pulled Marty between her thighs with a happy moan. Seductively undressing herself and him, Rory lined up his throbbing head with her slick, swollen lower lips and lowered herself onto him, down to the hilt. She then sultrily rose and sank onto Marty's shaft, matching his every thrust.

Marty was wide awake now, listening to the sweaty smack of Rory's thighs slapping across his hips. "Rory? What... what are we doing?" he yawned.

Rory grinned impishly and murmured, "Having sex."

"But why are we doing this?" And he thrust more roughly up into her.

Rory threw back her head and let out a moan. "OH! I don't knooooow..." Her breasts, with pink and perky and hardened nipples, jiggled as she bounced against him. Gently, she guided Marty's hands to her mounds and placed them over her breasts so he could knead and squeeze them. He did so expertly.

Marty's eyes, now black with lust, also twinged with concern. He had never made love to a pregnant woman before. "Will I hurt the baby?" he whispered in the darkness, arousing against the creaking of the hotel bed.

Rory's own irises swam with tears at his sweetness. "Noooo..." she sighed with a groan. She began to ride him harder and faster, her cries becoming louder and airier. "Mmmmm... Uhhhh... Muhhhh... Oooooooh... Ahhhhhh..." The warmth in her core began to build and build, cresting; her body was wound like a sharp coil. At last, arching back with a cry -

"AHHH!" Rory came all around him, collapsing over Marty in a heap so that she lay strewn across his chest. Marty roughly, violently slammed up into her weakly until he ejaculated deep inside her. A little bit of semen trickled out of Rory and she wiped the pink flesh of her femininity clean with her hand.

Shivering down from their high, Rory and Marty fell into a post-coital stupor and then sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

When Rory stirred awake the next morning, she found herself still blissfully naked and curled into Marty. He appeared to not have been asleep for a long time, and even surprised that she was still there. Blushing furiously, Rory shifted to get out of bed awkwardly... though not in the obvious haste that such a mortifying situation would require - that of waking up in the arms of a man whom, until last week, she hadn't seen in about a decade. Rory simply shuffled into the bathroom to shower and wash the smell of sex off of her. Changing, she let Marty take his turn, her face turning pink whenever she so much as glanced in his direction.

The second and final day of the conference was as enjoyable as the first. Rory got plenty of interviews for her piece, and poring over her notes, she knew she had a winner. Taylor might not think so at first, but no doubt he would thank her later. She and Marty spent one more night in their hotel room (this night conspicuously devoid of lovemaking) and checked out the next morning, boarding an early flight out of Denver.

It was late afternoon by the time they landed in Bradley. Marty insisted on giving Rory a ride to Stars Hollow, to see her safely home. Despite her brain telling her to cautiously keep her distance after what had gone on between them, something else inside Rory made her accept gratefully. As they drove towards the sleepy Connecticut town, Rory lazily scrolled through apps on her phone... and happened to come across something that made her jolt up in her seat.

"Crap, Crap, Crap! I forgot I scheduled my..." her voice trailed off and she blushed "ultrasound appointment for today! 4:30! It's 4:15!"

"No problem," Marty tightened his hands confidently on the wheel. They had just entered the Stars Hollow town limits. "Where's the clinic?"

"Off Peach Street," Rory instructed. "But, Marty, I couldn't possibly... you've gone out of your way..."

"I'll stay and wait for you, even," Marty insisted. "You can't walk all the way home in your condition; I won't have it."

Rory just smiled tenderly at him.

They pulled up to the Stars Hollow Medical Clinic, and got out, moving into the waiting room. Rory recognized a few of her neighbors, but thankfully none of them asked questions about the handsome man beside her (wait: had she just admitted that Marty was _handsome_?). At least Miss Patty and Babette were mercifully nowhere to be seen. Right on time, the attending nurse came out.

"Rory Gilmore?"

Marty just nodded to her with a smile. "I'll wait out here."

Rory went on back and sat on the operating table. The nurse rubbed the gel over her swollen belly, the substance sticky and cold to the touch, before running the standard diagnostic tests. "All right, Ms. Gilmore, baby is all healthy and you are right where we need you to be at five months pregnant..."

"Five?" Rory frowned. "I thought it was only four."

Frowning, the nurse ran the scan again. "Nope. Our computers estimate the time of conception was sometime in October. Early October."

Wait a minute... that didn't make sense... the last time she and Logan had slept together had been in those first days of November, only a few days before her mother's wedding. Something nagging at her brain, Rory fished out her phone and thumbed through the dates on her calendar app. All her past events. Just as she suspected - there had been no trip to London at all during the month of October. In fact, the last time she had seen Logan before their New Hampshire rendezvous had been Labor Day weekend.

So then how...? If the scans were right, Logan couldn't be the father of her child. But then who...?

Rory gulped, glancing to the nurse, who by now was watching her curiously.

"Is something wrong, miss?"

Blinking back tears and trying to calm her breathing, Rory shook her head. "Is...?" she coughed. "Is it possible for you to do a DNA scan? On the fetus?"

The nurse gave her a sympathetic smile. "Good question. Unfortunately, our technology hasn't advanced far enough for us to do a DNA scan in utero. We'd have to get a sampling from you and the baby once it's born, and run a cross-scan in our DNA database. If you want, I can give you the information to schedule the appointment..."

"No, it's fine," Rory dismissed, pushing to get up. She felt dizzy, short of breath. "I... I need to get out of here..." And she fled from the doctor's office...

* * *

Rory stumbled out into the entryway of the clinic, her mind buzzing. The Wookie. The damn, ever-loving _Wookie_ was her baby's father. It was the only time she had had sex during the month of October, when she was up in New York. With Lorelai...

She somehow found herself out in the parking lot, nearly tripping off the curb and then catching herself enough to sway to a stop on the asphalt, hands bracing her knees and her head staring down unseeing at the black pavement. Behind her, she heard a rattle as the clinic door slammed open and Marty tore into the parking lot after her.

"Rory!" he placed a hand on her lower back. "Rory, what's wrong? Is it the baby?"

"It's not Logan's," Rory gasped out, too out of it to care that she was willfully catching herself in a lie. After all, when Marty had asked her in Denver who the father was, she had said she didn't know. "I think it was some total stranger I slept with while I was out of town... I never got his name... I didn't even see his face! It was dark... Imagine, me, pregnant with a complete stranger's baby! What kind of a fuck-up am I?"

By now, Marty had gotten her to stand up straight and was rubbing circles along her back. She drifted into him a little, needing the support in an emotional and also very much a physical way. "You are _not_ a fuck-up!" he countered emphatically, his calloused palms sliding up to grip her upper arms.

She stared up into his face, utterly shattered. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because if I knew or agreed with that, I wouldn't have invited you along to Denver. I wouldn't be finding any and every excuse to spend time with you... I wouldn't do this!" And cupping her face in his hands, tilting her head back, Marty kissed Rory full on the mouth.

Rory's eyes popped out and she staggered a step backwards. His lips crushing into hers, as one palm held her head in place while the other splayed across her waist and pulled her close, nestling her portruding stomach between them, made every emotion inside of her bubble to the surface. Shock and fear combined with... indescribable excitement.

Rory closed her eyes and the urgency of the kiss, how it was planted on her with no warning, made her angry enough to wrap one hand around Marty's neck and deepen the kiss. Her full arm quickly followed, slinging about his shoulders as, unsatisfied, Rory took the brown locks of his hair in her fist right down to her fingernails and _pulled_.

"Mmmmhmmmm..." Rory moaned in frustration and bit down on Marty's lower lip. Marty gasped and put even more pressure against her mouth, unyielding, causing Rory to stumble back, her body colliding against his car with a soft 'thump.'

Rory tilted her head, thrashing as her lips sprang to keep Marty's mouth in hers again and again. Her hipbones, fat from pregnancy and sinfully protruded, burned as Marty's fingers found them and he thrust out his pelvis. Feeling his excitement, Rory spread her legs and yanked him in between her thighs with a happy groan. But she was also curious. Something about the taste of him, the way he kissed her, felt strangely... familiar...

Humming curiously, Rory undulated her mouth into Marty's, twisting it deeper into his and pushing her tongue inside his mouth.

And that, as her doe eyes popped open with renewed clarity, was when she realized: the feel of his mouth pressed against her own, the taste of his lips... she _recognized_ it...

Rory sprang out of the kiss with a smacking POP! and she gazed at Marty in wonder.

"It's you. It was _you_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 **

"It's you. It was _you_."

Rory vaguely felt herself lean back into the side of the car as she gaped at her friend. And apparently, that was not all that he was to her now.

"You were the one in the Wookie costume that night."

To her satisfaction, astonishment and rising sense of feeling cheated, Marty gave an implicating little nod.

At his nod, something tickled the back of Rory's brain. It was a bubble of pleasure as a memory re-surfaced, flashing back through her mind with an amber glow. The Wookie with his hands on her... the Wookie with his mouth on her... the Wookie, squirming deep inside her as they undulated while making love... He had been kind and gentle. If Marty's kiss just now was any indication, he could have let that sexual frustration he felt for her for years explode that night into something raw and rough and primal, but he had been really kind and gentle... He had made sweet love to her like a gentleman. Heck, he had restrained himself from being raw and rough with her, succumbing to unbridled passion, until she had given her express permission; she'd been the one to suggest that he pick up the pace. Kind and gentle... a perfect gentleman...

For a moment, there was silence. And then -

SMACK! Rory's hand reared back and fired as she slapped Marty hard across the face. Her hands found purchase on his chest and she shoved hard so that he flailed back and his hands were finally off of her. Those hands that had touched her hips, her face, her breasts... multiple times, as it turned out.

"You _lied_ to me!" she screamed, hot and angry tears pooling and streaming down her cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me we slept together? That it was your kid I was carrying?"

"First of all, because I didn't want you to run away again!" Marty blasted out to defend himself.

Rory blinked, disarmed, her anger snuffed out for just a tick. "Again?"

"When I told you how I felt back at Yale, you bolted. You ran... straight into the arms of Huntzberger. Then, when we fucked that night in my apartment, when I woke up the next morning... you were gone. I thought I would never see you again, but I ran into you in the bookstore; if I had told you we slept together, you would never have gone with me to Denver, if you even believed me first. And I truly wanted to spend time with you!" He paused to get air, pinching the bridge of his nose. Rory chose this moment to cut in.

"But I didn't run away this time," she said quietly. "When we made love in our hotel room, I slept next to you until morning. I didn't run away then."

"Because you didn't have anywhere to run _to_," Marty half-conceded, half-pointed out. Rory leaned back, stung, her blue eyes wide. Marty was still pinching the bridge of his nose. "As to your second question... I didn't ever think to wonder whether it was my kid inside of you. I suppose when I saw how big you were getting, I should have done the math - all the more so in Denver when you told me the father was unknown. But, you're so fucking _gorgeous_..." He hissed the last word; in spite of herself, Rory flushed. "... you must sleep with guys much better than me. And Huntzberger was probably right on top of the pile, I should have known!"

Biting her lip, Rory glanced down to the ground. "All the same... I'm sorry I kept that information from you," she heard Marty say. She nodded in acceptance. Wordlessly, she laced her fingers through his, needing something to hold onto as she remained deep in thought, though the sheer volume of thoughts was slowing. An elongated silence until Marty spoke up again.

"Is it really mine?"

Rory blinked back tears. "Yes," she whispered. "The doctors said I conceived in October, and the Wookie - _you_... were the only guy I slept with that entire month. It's yours, beyond a shadow of a doubt."

He must have misinterpreted her weepiness, for he added: "Will you keep it? If you don't, I'll understand."

She let out a weepy laugh and patted her stomach. "I'm five months along. I couldn't get an abortion this late, even if I wanted to. And I don't want to. You're stuck with me, buster. You're stuck with... us."

Marty smiled. "I'm honored, Rory. And I'm honored you're going to be the mother of my child."

Rory gasped and her eyes swam with tears. Unlacing her fingers from his, they found purchase on his chest. His eyes widened. "I'm sorry, I..."

She cut him off. For instead of pushing him away, she fisted his shirt, tugged him close and fiercely kissed him. Pleased with herself, she felt him moan and sway into her. God, her hormones were out of control.

They broke the kiss minutes later, panting. Marty's eyes were clouded and hooded. "Are you thirsty?"

"So thirsty!" Rory wheezed. "My place?"

"God, yes!"

* * *

They pulled into the Crap Shack in a squeal of tires, Marty barely able to keep his hands to himself and his eyes on the road. He and Rory stumbled out of his car and up onto the front porch, indulging in little, frantic pecks. Marty slammed Rory back into the front door, bracing her body into the wood as his lips found the pulse point on her neck. She gasped, moaning sweetly as her arms reached up to wind about his neck.

"T...turtle," she rasped. "Key's in the turtle."

Out of the corner of his eye, Marty spied a note taped to the front door. "Your mother and Luke... they went fishing."

"Fuck yes!" Rory squealed, yanking his lips to hers and moaning incessantly. "Mmmmm... Hmmm..."

Marty found the key and turning it in the lock, the door gave. He and Rory more or less fell through it, still making out furiously. Finally, Rory twisted away for air. Red-faced and panting, she beamed at him.

"All my life, I have been falling..." another gulp of air. "I have been falling... into you." Softly, but full of intention, she held out her hand. Holding her eyes, Marty took it and allowed her to lead him back into her bedroom...

* * *

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the childhood bedroom as Marty awakened, in bed with a still-sleeping Rory. She was strewn across the mattress beside him, naked as a baby, with an utterly content smile on her face. The dapple sunlight kissed the swell of her breasts, just as Marty had kissed them all through last night while Rory keened into him, with breathy, gasping moans.

Smiling over at her, Marty sat up and threw back the covers, scooching forward to sit on the bottom edge of the bed. Clad in nothing but boxers, he watched the patterns of the sun dance across the curtains for many minutes, just at bliss in this wildest dream that turned out not to be a dream at all. His most insane fantasy come to life.

After what he judged to be an hour, he heard humming and purring as Rory stirred. An impish, lovesick grin on her face, she crawled over to him like a cat, draping her arms lazily around his neck from behind. Caressing him, stroking him, she hummed a little tune, her voice occasionally lilting out. Dipping her face into his neck, she pressed tender kisses there.

"Good morning," she crooned. She smelled of morning breath and sex. And Marty fucking adored it. Giggling, Rory twisted around and threw herself prostrate into his lap, gazing up into his eyes as he played with her dark curls. "Sleep well?"

"Very, after you woke me up in the middle of the night for round three!" She threw back her head and laughed musically. Beaming, Marty dipped his face into her lips. They kissed chastely, holding it for a moment, smiling into each other's eyes.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi," she squeaked flirtatiously. Another pecking smack. "Coffee and breakfast?" Marty offered.

"Hmmm... coffee sounds good," she murmured. Craning her neck up, Rory stole another kiss, then shifted out of his lap as he rose and padded into the kitchen. Rory didn't know what was happening to her. She was beaming. She felt dizzy. Something had shifted between them, and she wanted more than ever to precisely nail it down. The sex last night had been volcanic and she wanted more, more...

But first, pulling a bathrobe around herself and following Marty to the kitchen, they would have to speak candidly about their relationship and where it went from here... especially considering their child, growing inside her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

When Luke and Lorelai returned from their fishing trip at the end of the weekend, they found Rory living out of a heavenly domestic existence with one Marty Kincaid. Blushing and stammering, the couple let the whole story spill out, about sleeping together in October without knowing it, then reconnecting and going to the Denver conference, then working out the truth. Lorelai felt truly remorseful about judging her daughter, even though both had presumed that Logan was the father, and she told her daughter so, apologizing profusely. And then, in the next instant, Lorelai was taking to calling Marty both 'Chewbacca' and 'Naked Guy,' much to Marty's embarrassment and Rory's amusement.

Marty made a point to stay around Stars Hollow from that point on. Though deeply wary of his step-daughter's blossoming romance, Luke graciously offered use of his empty loft above the diner as a studio apartment. He must have figured that he'd prefer Marty as the father of his grandchild than Logan Huntzberger.

As preparation for the baby began in earnest, Rory began taking on shifts at the Diner when she wasn't working at the _Gazette_, to earn some extra money. Because he was living above the establishment, and with time on his hands while writing his next novel by night, Marty agreed to help out too.

So it was that he found himself lugging boxes down into the storage basement for Luke. On his way back up from shuttling one load, Marty bumped into a waddling Rory as she entered the basement, clothed in a salmon-pink sundress that nicely accentuated her cleavage, which was also expanding as her breasts became quite plump.

"Hi," Rory murmured, bestowing him with a quick kiss as she sashayed down past him to the bottom landing, calling back over her shoulder. "There's another load by Caesar's order window if you're not too..."

"You're beautiful," Marty hissed out in awe, his eyes dark with lust. "Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?"

Rory turned back to look at him, peering at him innocently. "I don't know what you're... Mmm!"

His lips smashed into hers and they tumbled back, as he practically tackled her in a flying leap. Teetering, Marty and Rory fell against one pantry shelf so hard that it rattled. Rory's eyes fluttered shut in glee, her orbs rolling back into her head. Yanking her bodice down so that her forbidden, womanly fruit hung free, she grabbed Marty's skull, tearing his lips away and pushing his face in between her breasts.

"I want you to taste me," she rasped. Marty happily obliged, taking one nipple into his mouth and slobbering it while a calloused palm cupped her other boob with a loving squeeze. With his free hand, he grabbed her knee, a fistful of her thigh, to wrap her one leg around his waist. Marty pressed their groins together and Rory shivered violently, rocking her hips insistently.

"Now..." she whispered. "I need you to make love to me right now." Spinning, they swayed away from the shelf and toppled down, landing on a bed of flour bags. Opening her knees wider, Rory nestled Marty against her. Their tongues were in each other's mouths, lips swallowed whole, as the couple tore at each other's clothes; Marty nearly ripped Rory's pink dress in his haste to get it off her. Her white lace panties were shoved down to her ankles; Marty's pants and boxers were soon level with them. Throwing Rory's legs over his shoulders, lining up their entrances, Marty took her fiercely and Rory cried out into his shoulder. She rocked against him frantically, Marty gritting his teeth as he bore down. A bead of sweat dripped from his brow to land on Rory's bare, swollen stomach, and Marty bent down to kiss it away.

"Uhhh... Huhhhhh... Mmmmm... Hmmm... Marty, please... I need you... I need you to touch me... fuck me..." Rory babbled. He gave her a particularly vicious slam and she jolted. "Fuck!"

"Fuck, Rory! You're so tight and wet!"

"Ohhh... O... Only for you," she moaned.

"Rory, I love you so much! And our baby!" Marty roared. His whole body seized and with a savage yell, he exploded deep inside of her. Rory twitched violently and she followed with an airy scream.

They lay there, amidst bags of flour, panting, their heart rates gradually returning to normal. At last, Marty kissed Rory once, very gently, and pulled out, rolling off her, his slick body sliding a bit. Rory had to rock to sit up, eyes wild as she thought:

"Do... do you think they heard us up there?"

"Without a doubt," Marty's voice came out muffled from where it was buried, half in a sack of flour and half in Rory's dripping wet pussy.

Rory moaned and buried her face in her hands. "Daddy Luke's gonna kill me!"

"Rory?"

"What?" she mumbled into her fingers.

"...Will you marry me?"

Dead silence. Rory peeked out from between her fingers at him, mouth agape. At long last, she found her voice:

"Excuse me!" Desperately pulling her dress back onto herself, she fled up the steps, leaving a confused and hurt Marty to stare forlornly after her.

* * *

A few days after the basement fuck session and botched proposal, April Nardini came home from Germany for summer break. She would be splitting it half and half, spending the final days with her mother in New Mexico, who hadn't seen her since Thanksgiving. When she arrived at the Crap Shack, nerdy glasses on her face and all smiles, she was shaken by the morose atmosphere blanketing the house. Her father and stepmother were tiptoeing around a very pregnant Rory as if she was a ticking time bomb. And Rory looked as if so much as a feather floated down on her, she would crack into a million pieces.

April was sympathetic, but still shocked when the whole story behind Rory's mood was brought to light. The assumed Baby Daddy was not the Baby Daddy after all, and another had arisen to take his place - a man with whom Rory had now seemed to fall hopelessly in love, after only four, five, six rounds of sex, the first one with her paramour in a Wookie costume. At this, April's rather blunt way of delivering the painful truth shone through, seated with her father and Lorelai at the kitchen table while Rory pined away in her room, nesting for the baby to come.

"No offense, Dad, but there's a word for that: S-L..."

"Finish that spelling, young lady, and I am putting you on the plane to New Mexico early!" her father snapped. April cast her eyes down remorsefully, flitting them fearfully to Lorelai, but the older woman only cocked one eyebrow. Smiling, she took April's hand and rubbed it between her fingers, letting her know nothing would be held against her. April hated to see Lorelai angry with her - for a long time, she had assumed that her father's initial break-up with his lover had been her fault.

"Why don't you go in there and talk to your sister, sweetie?"

At this, April's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "_Me_? What could _I_ say?" She and Rory were never anything but kind and loving to each other. But exceptionally close? April couldn't say that. Plus, they were nothing alike. Where Rory was gorgeous and poised, April felt herself awkward and at times a bit frumpy.

"Much more than I can," Luke grumbled. "When she won't even listen to me or eat my mashed potatoes, that's when you know it's bad. Besides, you're a girl - you can relate better."

"But I've never been pregnant before!" April protested.

"And let's hope you're not until you're 40," Luke growled. "The father is a good guy; if he wasn't and Rory wasn't so lovesick over him, I'd shoot him dead. Come on, kid, give it a shot. For me, huh? For your old man."

April looked from one adult to the other. "OK. I'll try." Rising, she crossed to Rory's room, under the watchful eye of Luke and Lorelai. She rapped on the door lining once. "Rory? It's April."

"Come in," Rory called, her voice hoarse as if she had been crying. Turning the knob, April entered.

She found her stepsister curled up on the bed, clutching her swelling stomach. Around the room, books and toys and a furnished crib for the baby mixed in with April's duffel and books and her dorm life generally boxed and bagged. What little floor space was left was taken up by April's air mattress, leaving just enough hardwood to pad a path to the kitchen. Stepping over the minefield, April half-jumped onto Rory's bed, landing a little too close so that she jerked, startled.

"Oh. Hi," she eyed her awkwardly.

"You're in love with your Baby Daddy," April pronounced. It was the first thing she could think to say.

At this, Rory nearly choked; somewhere out in the hallway, the girls thought they heard their father smack his face to his palm. "Wh... what?"

"Don't deny it. If you weren't, you wouldn't be acting like this!" April rationalized like the scientist she was. A pause and then: "You've fucked enough. Dad says so."

Rory's mouth collapsed into a thin line. "I'm leaving," she stated calmly. She tried to get up, but couldn't even swing all the way into a sitting position. Huffing, and realizing there was no escape, Rory flopped back into the pillows, even as April tried to stop her exit.

"Wait, don't go. I'm... I'm sorry." She sighed. "I don't know how to do this. I've never had a sibling before. And by the time our parents got together for good, you were grown; we don't often see each other."

Rory's doe eyes stared back at her and she nodded slowly. April's gaze flitted to her stomach. She reached out a hand, then retracted it back. "Can I... touch...?"

"Oh, of course, April. You're family. And thank you for asking. The only people I would allow to touch me are you, my mom, your dad, and..." Her voice trembled. "Marty."

"Marty," April turned it over on her tongue. "It's a nice name. Maybe you should use it, if it's a boy."

Rory threw back her head and laughed. "It is a boy," she beamed with pride. "But I don't think Marty would like his son to be Marty, Jr. I was thinking... Richard. After my grandfather."

April nodded. She recalled her father calling her with the news of the funeral, during her senior fall at MIT. "That's nice." Another pause, and then, remembering what she had come in for, April piped up. "Dad says Marty asked you to marry him? And you..."

Rory flopped her face in Colonel Cluckers, her old stuffed animal. "Ran away," she mumbled into it.

"I think you should go back to him and say Yes. You clearly love him. And besides... baby Richard shouldn't be like we were."

"And what were we?" Rory frowned, rising a little out of her pillow pile.

April shrugged. "Children from broken homes." Her voice grew quiet. "We both grew up without our fathers. Do you really think it's fair for your son to grow up without his? Especially when there doesn't seem to be anything standing in your way."

Rory gulped, as her eyes welled up. "I'm afraid of getting hurt," she whispered. "When I thought Logan was the father, I told him, and he ran away. Logan is just like my dad."

"But Marty _isn't_ Logan," April pointed out. "Or your dad for that matter, who chose not to be there. Or even my dad, who would have been there if he'd known about me. Here you have a guy who clearly has been in love with you since, like, 2005, knocked you up with a kid and knows about it and is clearly willing to take responsibility. If you got married, you two would be well-established. Stable household to raise your baby wherever you want. It could be Stars Hollow, it could be somewhere else. There's actually very good real estate in New Mexico, it's quite pretty there..."

"April!" Rory cut her stepsister off, clearly seeing she was rambling. "I appreciate your concern, but..." her voice suddenly trailed off. "You're right."

"Huh?" April frowned. "I'm pretty sure those two statements aren't contrasting."

"Holy shit, you're right!"

"Duh. I aced AP English..."

"No, no, no, I mean you're _right_. About the marriage stuff. And I didn't even need a Pro-Con list! You said it for me!" Heaving herself to her feet, Rory threw her arms around her stepsister; April looked appropriately flummoxed, but awkwardly hugged her back. "I've got to get to Marty, tell him I love him!"

And bursting out of the house, Rory speed-waddled to the Diner, chucking rocks pathetically at the second-story window until she saw the downstairs light turn on. As soon as Marty had unlocked the front door of the Diner, Rory was on him, kissing him furiously.

"Mmmm... I'm sorry..." she gasped out. "Hmmmm... yes!... Mmmmm... Kiss me... Mmmmmhmmmm... Let's get married... Mmmm...marry me... please, marry me. Will you marry me?"

Beaming, Marty picked her up and spun her around. "I thought you'd never ask!" Cupping her face, Marty started to kiss her frantically, but Rory twisted away.

"Mmmm... wait, I need to say this." And lacing her fingers through his, she glanced down at her feet before raising her eyes to him shyly, staring at him through her long lashes. "I love you," Rory murmured. "More than I've ever loved anyone."

He just gazed at her, and she smiled weakly, adorably. "OK. Now you can kiss me." Marty kissed her once, very sweetly, before dragging her inside. He turned on the radio perched on the counter. Taking Rory in his arms, they began a slow dance around the eatery, a sultry Jason Robert Brown tune percolating through the space:

_All my life, I have been falling, I have been falling into you... Circling in the sky, looking for a harbor coming into view... All my life, I have been falling into you... Adding up all those minutes, staring through all I saw, how could I know the answer, how could I know the answer would be you? Only you... All my life, I have been falling, I have been falling into you... This is where I land. You are what I've worked for. Now is what is true! All my life, I have been falling into you..._

* * *

At eight months pregnant, Rory Gilmore and Marty Kincaid eloped in Stars Hollow, marrying at the Dragonfly Inn in lieu of a normal church wedding. The format for the nuptials left Emily a little put out, but she was supportive, and over the moon that she would soon see her great-grandchild. Rory was a blushing, glowing bride throughout and Marty kissed her again and again, unable to keep his hands off her. After discussing it with her mother, April generously gave up her ticket to New Mexico, and bought another one, so that her stepsister and new brother-in-law could honeymoon there.

The newlyweds barely returned before Rory's water broke.

She was rushed to the hospital in Hartford, where after 16 hours of hard labor, she gave birth to Richard Gilmore Kincaid, her son. The new aunt, April, was the first to hold the baby, enraptured, and burst into tears when Rory asked her to be the godmother. Upon coming home from the hospital, Rory realized there were two pieces of unfinished business left to complete. The first involved getting her baby a DNA test. It came back with positive proof that Marty was her child's father. The second piece of unfinished business involved Logan Huntzberger. Sitting down, Rory wrote Logan a personal letter, telling him that the baby wasn't his and that she had found, fallen in love with, and married the baby's father. She apologized for their relationship ending the way it did, and wished him every happiness, and forgiving him for the things that he did, the choices he made. In a way, she was setting him free.

After coming off maternity leave, Rory was given full control over the _Stars Hollow Gazette_. Her efforts to revolutionize the paper did not go unnoticed, her pieces becoming more high-profile. Once it was revealed that she was the wife of New York Times-bestselling author Marty Kincaid, higher publications were clamoring for a job interview. After two years with the _Gazette_, Rory accepted a position with the _Hartford Courant_. Her first assignment? Covering the refugee crisis in Syria. Rory had achieved her dream of being a foreign correspondent at last, and while blessed with a child she adored and a man at her side who loved her.

Back home in sleepy Stars Hollow one night, Rory and her husband snuggled on the couch, cuddling and kissing.

Tilting her head, Rory attacked Marty's lips softly again, keeping one ear open for the baby monitor on the coffee table. "My, your lung capacity certainly has improved."

Marty shrugged. "I've been working out."

She giggled, caressing his hair. "Yet another reason to continue the fight to keep public education in schools. I like it," she murmured. "And I like these..." She ran her arms possessively up his biceps.

Marty smirked. "And I like these..." He groped her breasts and she swatted at him playfully. He continued to kiss her. "So I was thinking..." _kiss_

"Yes?" Rory hummed, tilting her head to give him better access. _kiss_

"Since Richard is going to be starting school soon..."

"Mmhmmm..." Rory murmured. _kiss_

"We could... try for another baby?"

She pulled back to gaze into his eyes, studying him curiously. Finally, Rory broke out into a beaming smile. Marty returned the grin, hopeful.

"That's a yes?"

Rory grinned adorably. "Uh-huh. So... deep breath and..." Draping her arms about his neck, she softly kissed him again, and Marty kissed her back. Soon, the kiss grew out-of-control and they were tearing at each other's clothes, before long starting their trying with a wild round of making love on their living room couch...


End file.
